Division 13 Case Files
by GunBunnyCentral
Summary: A catch-all for the various fics set in the Warehouse 13/Nikita fusion I've dubbed Division 13. I created the fusion as a one-off for AU Week, but the muses apparently weren't done yet. Note that chapters may be moved around to maintain some semblance of chronological order.
1. For In That Sleep Of Death

Notes: This is the Division 13 version of the famous pool scene from the Nikita pilot. I chose - after some careful thought - to transfer Nikita Mears' backstory directly to Myka, as no variation of Myka's canon background really worked for this AU the way I needed it to.

{*****}

_To die, to sleep;_  
_To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;_  
_For in that sleep of death what dreams may come..._

William Shakespeare, _Hamlet_

{*****}

Myka Bering stepped from the cool, shaded house out onto the bright, noisy patio. The hot Mexico sun felt good on her bare skin, and - for a moment, anyway - she let herself stop hating the skimpy bathing suit Lorna had put her in for this mission.

That brief moment didn't completely prevent her from feeling uncomfortably exposed, but it helped make the feeling manageable. Making a mental note *not* to tell Lorna about that - Myka was far from helpless, even unarmed and in a bikini, and Lorna would have a field day dissecting why that sensation of helplessness still lingered - Myka took a seat carefully chosen to put her in her target's field of vision.

Removing her sunglasses, she sat back and simply waited as she sipped at her drink. It didn't take long at all - she'd been sent in as a carefully crafted honey trap, and everyone involved had done their job well. Her target - middle management for some drug lord - did a double-take as he spotted her, then quickly ended his phone call and set the phone aside.

Even though the man was sitting with two other women in the hot tub - two women almost certainly drawn by his power and wealth rather than by any personal attributes of his own - he still called out to get her attention. "_Chica_. You. _Como te llamas?_"

Myka, taking her cue, smiled at the man as she walked slowly to the edge of the pool. "Myka."

"Myka." Her target smiled back as he tested the unusual name, his ego making him ridiculously vulnerable to even a minor display of interest from an attractive woman. "Never seen you before, Myka. Who brought you here?"

It took Myka a moment to find just the right blend of sexy and ditzy, so she covered by looking around as if searching for her companion. "Elena. Yelena? No - Helena. She said there was a cool party, so, uh, here I am."

There was no response over her hidden earpiece, but Myka knew that Helena was hanging on every word. She could picture the amusement in those dark eyes, and her smile became just a tad more genuine.

Myka's target interpreted that as growing interest, and sent the other two girls away in a spate of rapid Spanish before turning back to Myka. He even started pouring her a glass of the champagne sitting on the side of the hot tub. "_Venga_. Come. Have a drink with me."

The hot tub was on a raised platform in the center of a shallow, circular pool - not at all ideal for Myka's mission, so she tried to lure her target away from it with a little fake vanity. "I was kinda hoping to stay dry. Why don't we go to the bar instead?"

Her target just grinned at her as he looked her up and down, clearly buying the act. Unfortunately, he was too used to getting his own way for it to work as intended. "As you say, this is a cool party. If you want to stay, you're going to have to get... wet."

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes at the obvious - and tasteless - double entendre, Myka handed her drink to her target's bodyguard, easily identifiable by the fact that he was wearing a suit at a pool party. She didn't have much choice but to step into the water and cross the few steps to her target - it didn't really change much, and she'd adjusted her plan of action before she even stopped moving.

Her target, thinking he'd won, continued grinning even as he handed her the champagne he'd poured a moment ago. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"I would have preferred the bar," Myka replied, leaning in close and dropping her voice to a coo to lull her target into a false sense of security. "It's just that this is going to make taking your bodyguard out so much harder."

The target, completely distracted, didn't even comprehend Myka's words for several heartbeats. "_Como?_"

The next few seconds - maybe two or three minutes, tops - were so driven by training and instinct that Myka was barely even conscious of taking action. She snapped the target's neck, exactly as planned, before he'd even had time to register the danger. The bodyguard was just as easy to deal with - the knife Myka snatched up from a nearby fruit tray and threw at him sank up to the hilt in his chest, piercing his heart.

The second he was down, Myka started moving for the exfil point. She was completely vulnerable during the several steps it took her to trudge to the edge of the pool, but not one of the screaming, panicking party-goers even tried to stop her - she was out of the water and sprinting full speed across the patio before she met any resistance at all.

Myka had made it all the way to the patio door by then. Fortunately, Division believed in doing its homework, so she was ready for it when the target's second bodyguard came barreling through that door, gun in hand.

She'd always been unusually strong for her lanky frame, so it wasn't any real effort to pick up a nearby overstuffed chair and swing it around to catch the bullets being fired at her - risky, but the second bodyguard's handgun was a pretty weak model.

He'd apparently also forgotten to reload said handgun, since he only got a couple shots off before running out of ammo. When she heard the familiar click announcing that fact, Myka swung the chair one last time and left the second bodyguard in a heap on the patio.

None of the still-screaming, still-panicked guests made even the slightest move to stop her after that. She dashed through the patio door, mentally reviewing the house's layout as she ran through one of its seemingly endless corridors. Pressing her fingers to her ear, she activated her comm unit. "Target is down! I need extraction at the service entrance."

Helena's voice came back almost immediately. It was familiar and comforting for the heartbeat or two it took Myka to realize it sounded all wrong somehow. "Negative. Extraction is impossible."

Myka, having experienced her share of missions gone sideways, kept running even as panic began to set in. Surely she'd misheard, or misunderstood. "What?"

The reply was cold, toneless - almost dead - and not at all like the Helena she was used to. "You always had trouble listening, didn't you, Myka?"

"Helena! Please, I need to get out of here." Fear and confusion caused Myka to slow, then finally stop.

Helena suddenly rounded a corner, blocking the way, and Myka felt relief for the split-second it took her to realize that her handler's eyes were as cold and dead as her voice. "You still aren't hearing me, darling. I told you-"

Myka's eyes widened in stunned disbelief as Helena raised a gun, aiming it directly at Myka's head - at such close range, even an amateur couldn't miss the shot, and Helena was no amateur.

"There is no out," Helena finished with a sneer. Then she pulled the trigger - the gunshot was deafening in the narrow hallway.

Myka woke with a gasp, phantom pain shooting through her skull. It had all just been a nightmare - a horrifically real one, though, that still left her shaking and sweaty and breathless as she struggled to recall where she was and what was actually happening.

It took several minutes just to regain even a small portion of her equilibrium - mercifully, she was at least able to recall right away that she was sitting in a stolen SUV beside a snow-crusted lake in Roselle Park, New Jersey. Realizing that she also had somewhere to be, she snatched up a pair of pliers from the seat beside her and started the car - the tremor in her hands as she did so owed as much to the thought of her destination as it did to the lingering effects of her nightmare.

Some undetermined length of time later - could have been minutes or hours, for all that she'd paid attention to its passage - Myka was standing in front of a screen door she'd desperately prayed to never see again. The mere thought of reaching out to knock on that door almost made her puke all over her shoes.

Drawing a shaky breath, Myka pushed past the fear and nausea before that happened. As if to defy her previous paralysis, her hand shot out of its own volition and rang the doorbell instead. The man who answered the door looked about as old and run-down as his house.

It didn't completely negate years of fear and trauma, but it negated enough that Myka could still breathe and function. "Hi, Gary."

Gary - the man who'd made Myka's life a living hell before her attempts to escape him had ruined it completely - didn't even recognize her. He just looked her up and down with a leer as he chuckled. "'Hi, Gary'? That's a nice touch, honey, but I ain't buying anything."

Myka rolled her eyes, knowing they were hidden behind her sunglasses. "Fine. Let's try this one more time."

She removed the shades, watching recognition spread across Gary's face as she choked out the words she'd vowed never to say to her foster-father again. "Hi, _Daddy_."


	2. Three Point Oh

Notes: I admit it. This - an HG-centric retelling of the Nikita episode '3.0' - is purely the result of my brain skewing two particular Michael/Nikita moments into Helena/Myka moments. You're welcome.

{*****}

Helena Wells had to admit that life was pretty good these days - actually, blasting down the road in a borrowed Claudia-Donovan-special Mercedes-Benz SLS AMG, she had to admit that life was *very* good.

It was hard to believe that, mere weeks ago, she and those dearest to her had been hunted fugitives, with no real future ahead of them except running until they were captured or killed. Now, though, with Division under Arthur Nielsen's leadership - thanks to a desperate gambit that appeared to have paid off in spades - there was a chance for *every* Division agent to get their life back.

That, of course, was entirely contingent upon the successful completion of Division's assigned task: mopping up the various messes the black ops agency had left in its wake under the previous management, and bringing in every agent so that all assets could be accounted for and the place shut down properly.

To that end, Helena was currently tearing down the road in the borrowed Mercedes, in search of her fellow agent - and, more importantly, girlfriend - Myka Bering. Myka had been the one spearheading the quest to tear Division down - with near-fanatical single-mindedness - but had seen the benefits of leaving the place running long enough to provide for the agents they'd be displacing.

Myka, as predicted, was standing outside a local bookstore, being chatted up by a couple of cute men, and actually enjoying it for once. Helena certainly couldn't fault Myka's admirers - the woman was a vision, with her long legs, green eyes, and curly dark hair, especially when relaxed and smiling as she currently was.

The two men, from what Helena could hear as she pulled up, were discussing whatever had gone on at the book club they'd just gotten out of while also trying to get Myka to give up both her name and her agreement to meet them for coffee. It was the sort of terribly mundane moment they'd all thought lost to them, and it was marvelous.

Before Myka could reveal her name, though, Helena did it for her, peering over her sunglasses as she leaned out the car window. "Myka, darling! You're needed back at the office - Arthur said it was something of a minor emergency."

If the way Myka Bering's face lit up when she saw Helena Wells there wasn't enough of a clue, the men flirting with her certainly had it all clarified for them when Myka raced over to kiss her girlfriend. Fortunately, they took it with good grace and a laugh, grinning back at Myka as she waved goodbye. "Sorry, boys! Duty calls!"

Myka's happy mood faded to something more pensive, however, as they drove back to Division and then down into the agency's parking structures. Slouching in her seat even after her door slid open, Myka stared balefully at the empty bay around them. "I'm still not used to being back here..."

Helena just smiled - she could understand Myka's apprehension completely. "Don't fret, darling - it's taking time, but things *are* changing."

The elevator doors opened just then, and a slim, somewhat hyper redhead - otherwise known as Claudia Donovan - burst out of them. "HG! You can't just steal my Mercedes whenever you feel like joyriding - I'm not finished working on this one!"

Myka chuckled, then muttered under her breath. "*Some* things are changing, anyway..."

Of course, it was easy enough for Helena - as a fellow techie and engineer - to distract Claudia from her annoyance about her precious vehicle. Myka followed the conversation for about 90 seconds before it went over her head - give her literature, linguistics, or the biological sciences any day - and then she just cleared her throat. "Artie called a meeting?"

Claudia just grinned. "We finally got a ping off one of our Dirty Thirty crew. You two ready to go kick some super-spy ass?"

The Dirty Thirty, as they'd been dubbed, were the thirty heavy hitters who had refused to return to Division when the call had gone out after the change in management. They were exactly the sort of potential trouble that had gotten the President's tentative agreement to let Division keep going - there was literally no other agency with the right tools to deal with these people quietly and discreetly.

Arthur Nielsen - Artie to his friends - was his usual gruff, grumbling self as he chided them all for taking so long, but they could all tell he was enjoying his new post. The meeting itself didn't take long - their target, an agent named Martin, was in Hong Kong, and had popped up on the grid due to his potential involvement in the deaths of several CIA agents there.

Many, many long hours on a plane later - long hours during which the two women probably scandalized a good portion of their fellow fliers in their attempt to stave off boredom - Helena and Myka were checking into a hotel in Hong Kong under the respective aliases of Emily and Sara Lake.

Myka, of course, was quite taken with the beautiful, romantic suite they got ushered into. "I could totally get used to this."

Helena just grinned at her as she rifled through her luggage, taking advantage of Myka's distraction to deftly transfer a ring box from a suitcase to her coat pocket. Sneaking a quick peek at the ring in the process, Helena had to fight back a grin - she had every intention of adding a couple extra days for relaxation and romance to the trip once the mission was complete.

Of course, Helena's own distraction let Myka catch her completely by surprise - the curly-haired agent was apparently feeling a little frisky, grinning as she pulled Helena close and started tugging at her clothes. Helena almost panicked as she scrambled to keep Myka from finding the ring box, but she managed to get her coat off with Myka none the wiser.

Myka, of course, had noticed something off about that, but took it for the usual mission jitters they all experienced. Still grinning, she just made a joke about Helena needing to relax, right before knocking Helena's feet out from under her and sending her sprawling onto the bed.

Helena certainly wasn't going to argue with the distraction - not unless they were talking a matter of life and death, at least - but it apparently wasn't meant to happen. Myka, in the middle of unbuttoning Helena's shirt, had groaned and pulled away, clearly experiencing an unwanted 'eureka' moment.

They both knew by now never to disregard those, so Helena just lay there patiently as Myka gathered her thoughts. "What is it, darling?"

Myka was already searching for her comm piece. "Martin's no monk. His cover is a fashion photographer right? Maybe he had a favorite model..."

"Nice call, Myka," Claudia confirmed a couple minutes later. "Looks like a model named Lynn Capshaw is his fave - she even lives in Hong Kong."

There was a pause and some background chatter as Claudia confirmed the address, and Helena watched Myka roll her eyes. "Are you *still* fighting with Todd? Whatever you did this time, just apologize - you two are driving the rest of us crazy."

Claudia's response, though good-natured, did not bear repeating in mixed company. Still, she got them the address they needed and confirmed that Capshaw was home - a little while later, they were changed, prepped, and approaching Capshaw's apartment door.

The silence as they knocked did not bode well at all, triggering instincts Helena had honed over years of work in the field. Those instincts proved correct, as the mission went to hell in a matter of minutes. Martin, somehow detecting Division's presence, had done the only thing he could think of to save himself - he'd snapped Lynn Capshaw's neck, leaving the body behind, then called in the police anonymously to ensure that the agents after him took the blame for her murder.

With the police literally at the door, Helena could see only one way out. Myka balked at first, but didn't have any real choice - she ran while Helena stayed behind to be arrested, mollifying the police and allowing at least one of the agents to work without the interference of a manhunt. It was just like a similar mission in Bolivia, really - once things were in order, Myka would be able to free Helena from police custody with little to no trouble.

The arrest and subsequent booking were depressingly routine, and Helena was tempted to cause a little trouble just to alleviate her boredom. She didn't, though, biding her time instead - the Inspector assigned to her case was entertaining at least, unduly (or perhaps rightly) suspicious of an English woman traveling on an American passport.

The worst part was having to sit there patiently, able to do nothing but wait while Myka completed their mission. Helena did her best to fill the time, amusing herself by indulging in a little verbal fencing with the oh-so-paranoid Inspector - he looked almost angry somehow when she began addressing him in perfect Cantonese, requesting her lawyer and contact with her Embassy.

The situation stopped being so amusing, however, when that same Inspector mistakenly concluded that the ring the officers found in Helena's coat pocket - a gorgeous and expensive confection capped off with a diamond solitaire, quite clearly an engagement ring - was somehow proof of motive in Capshaw's murder. Helena had to fight not to roll her eyes and call the man an imbecile. Instead, she just smiled at him sweetly. "I never got the chance to propose, actually. On that note, I *will* be needing the ring returned to me as soon as possible..."

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the plan for her release got set into motion - the cavalry, it seemed, had been successfully called in. Pete Lattimer - a fellow Division agent, and a card-carrying member of what he jokingly called 'Team Myka' - sauntered into the interrogation room pretending to be Helena's Embassy-appointed lawyer, using the guise and a cleverly constructed code to catch Helena up on the situation even as he secretly returned her comm unit.

Helena and Pete even got to share a cleverly concealed laugh over the image of fellow 'Team Myka' agent Steve Jinks throwing a diva-esque tantrum out in the lobby so he could plant a remote access bug of some kind for Claudia. Pete managed to conceal his happy grin when Helena communicated her need to retrieve the engagement ring before leaving, but it was clear he was pleased and not altogether surprised.

All in all, things seemed to be smoothly back on track - of course, it didn't stay that way for long.

Not even a moment or two after Pete had taken care of his current part in Helena's rescue, several officers from the Ministry of State Security - Chinese intelligence, the last people they wanted in the middle of this - approached the Inspector outside the interrogation room and demanded that Helena be turned over to them.

Pete, of course, was swiftly ousted from the room, but he managed to convey first that everything would still be alright if Helena just kept calm and waited. Helena's earpiece only connected her back to Claudia, and by extension, the rest of Division, but that was plenty - between the two of them, Helena and Claudia managed to lock Helena into the interrogation room so that she couldn't be moved until she chose to be.

Once she and Claudia finally decided to let the MSS officers in - a new rescue plan had been formulated, though the specifics were unknown to her - Helena tried to insist that she had personal items that simply must be transferred with her. Even as she watched, though, the Inspector who'd so misliked her picked up the ring box and pocketed it.

Helena spent the trip from the interrogation room to the police station doors imagining the many painful ways she could recover that ring, even while still in handcuffs - it was a pointless exercise really, but it kept her from lashing out. Once outside, though, she had all the distraction she could possibly want.

She didn't really have time to put the specifics together, but the general picture was clear enough. Myka had somehow managed to take the commander of the MSS officers hostage inside his own vehicle, effectively removing him from play. Pete, for his part, had taken out Martin and was currently using Martin's sniper rifle to fire at the various MSS and police officers - clever, that, as the now deceased Martin would be blamed for everything.

Helena spotted Myka as she ousted the MSS chief from his vehicle, and beelined for her through all the commotion. She turned to give one last forlorn glance back at the lost engagement ring - just in time to see the Inspector come rushing out of the building with a few fellow police officers at his side.

Myka moved to help the still-handcuffed Helena into the black SUV - it was *always* a black SUV, after all - but Helena reached for Myka's gun instead. "Give me the gun, darling!"

Myka just blinked in confusion, searching for the new threat. "What? Why?"

Helena, pushed to the end of her endurance, couldn't prevent herself from snapping at her girlfriend a little. "Just give me the bloody Glock!"

There really wasn't anything else for Myka to do but comply. "Where are you going? Helena-!"

"To get your engagement ring!" Helena, already in motion now that she had gun in hand, was at least able to get a glimpse of Myka's stunned but smiling face as the words registered on her.

Myka stayed somewhat stunned for the next several minutes, or she surely would have rushed over to help Helena deal with the handful of police officers she was fighting. Not that Helena really needed the help - her rather one-sided brawl was actually the most fun she'd had all day, and was, in her opinion, over all too swiftly. She did, of course, kick the Inspector a time or two once he was down on sheer principle alone.

Helena grabbed the ring as quickly as she could, then dashed back to Myka. It was too bad, really, that Helena didn't have time to properly enjoy having derailed Myka's brain so thoroughly - instead, she hurried them both into the SUV so they could go rendezvous with Pete and the others.

Needless to say, the romantic extension to their trip that Helena had planned to use was now out of the question. Myka tried to bring up the ring during the flight home, but Helena deflected her every time, saying only that she needed to reformulate her original plans for the proposal now that they were headed back to the States.

It took a few days, especially with all the reports and debriefing once they returned to Division, but Helena finally devised a proposal scenario she deemed acceptable - there was no way for it to be a surprise any longer, of course, but Myka was more than willing to play along anyway.

She bought them tickets to the opera - a shared love they hadn't had time to indulge, despite now being free to do so - and reserved a table at the new restaurant Myka had been pining to try. Date nights, for any reason whatsoever, were a rare and precious commodity for the two of them, and they put aside any thoughts of the impending proposal in order to simply enjoy the evening out.

Finally, though, everything fell into place as they strolled through a nearby plaza after a wonderful show and amazing dinner - they looked quite dashing together, Helena was certain, with Myka in her clinging dress and Helena in her perfectly-tailored tuxedo. There was a beautifully lit old fountain in the center of that plaza, and Helena led them over to it, deciding that it was absolutely perfect.

Myka, taking a seat on the fountain's edge, seemed to understand that the moment had finally arrived. "Helena, you don't have to do this just because I saw the ring..."

"Nonsense, darling," Helena replied. "It's tradition, and I am, despite all outward appearances, quite a traditional woman. Also, you have no idea how damned difficult it was to find you the perfect ring."

With that, Helena went to one knee and held out the open ring box - Myka, still chuckling at Helena's complaint about her difficulties ring shopping, gasped quietly as she got a good look at it for the first time. It was beautiful, all glimmering diamonds and gleaming platinum...

Helena gave her prospective fiancee a moment to recover her wits before she finally spoke. "Myka-"

"Oh god," Myka choked out, too moved to stay silent, "you had me at 'Give me the bloody Glock'..."

One could argue that Helena's smug grin as she slipped the ring onto Myka's finger was totally justified. One could also argue that she wouldn't own the tears shining in her eyes nearly so quickly - though at least Myka was every bit as teary-eyed, which helped Helena to save at least a little face.

It took a moment for them both to feel entirely steady again, and even then Myka was a little shaky in her heels as she got back to her feet. There was actually applause and cheering as the newly-engaged couple hugged and then kissed, but they were so wrapped up in each other that they never even heard it...


	3. Singing Her Praises

Note: Inspired by Helenastacie's gif set on Tumblr - post/44716926805. The song being used is "Have You Ever Really Loved A Woman?" by Bryan Adams. Consider this a 'flashback' occuring not long after Myka has graduated Division training to become a full agent.

{*****}

Agent Helena Wells knew she'd been played the second she walked into the bar. Lorna Soliday had called her and sent her there, acting as if it was a time-sensitive mission of some sort, but Helena knew better the second she saw Myka Bering up on the small stage with a guitar.

Helena took a seat towards the back and eyed the crowd - she'd been at Division long enough that she loathed crowded, noisy, open places like this now - but saw nothing suspicious. It was open mike night, apparently, and Myka was using her free time to participate now that she'd graduated from her training.

It was suddenly obvious why Lorna had insisted Helena report there at that precise time, and had made it all so very last-minute - she wanted Helena to watch Myka performing as part of whatever psychological exercise she was currently running on one or both of them. Helena was tempted to leave, but there was too great a chance Myka would see it and misinterpret.

No one else in that bar knew exactly what it had taken to get Myka Bering to the point where she could even consider getting up on that stage. She'd loved to sing once, until her foster father's abuse had stolen her voice away - she literally had not sung a note in years until Lorna had forced her into voice lessons to help push her past her trauma.

Helena had expected a fight, but Myka had done as ordered - Claudia Donovan, a fellow agent Myka had befriended, had heard about the mandatory voice lessons and unexpectedly sweetened the deal by offering guitar lessons as well. Rather than argue, Myka had simply lit up at the prospect, her long-buried love for music overcoming any resistance.

Sitting tucked away, though, hoping Myka wouldn't see her, Helena felt like the worst kind of voyeur, and her dislike for Lorna Soliday only grew stronger - Myka didn't need these sorts of head games. So of course Myka spotted her almost instantly, though her smile said she didn't mind it at all.

"Looks like I've got a friend here tonight," Myka exclaimed happily as her grin broadened. Helena muttered something that was supposed to be an acknowledgement then sank back even further into her seat and started fidgeting nervously with her hair as various eyes fixed on her.

Myka drew their attention back as she began strumming the opening notes on her guitar. Helena, looking for anything to distract her from her discomfort, searched for and immediately found the earmarks of Claudia's training in the other woman's technique.

Myka, perhaps needing the moral support, fixated on Helena with those green eyes of hers as she started singing, and any hesitance vanished with those first few notes. "To really... love a woman, to understand her, you gotta know her deep inside... Hear every thought, see every dream, give her wings when she wants to fly..."

Helena, respecting Myka's need for what little privacy she could garner as a recruit, had never sat in on any of Myka's lessons - Helena had been tempted to ask, just because of their effect on Myka, but hadn't wanted Myka to feel she couldn't say no. Even when the lessons ended, there had been no real reason for Myka to ever sing in her presence, and Helena had never heard her utter a single note.

Until now, rather, and Helena was caught a little off guard by it. She'd known Myka's voice was good - both Claudia and the voice coach said as much - but hadn't really expected it to be so warm and rich, or so evocative.

It was ear candy, really, and Helena let herself get so caught up that the actual words didn't start to register until Myka started into the second verse. "To really love a woman, you let her hold you, 'til you know how she needs to be touched. You gotta breathe her, really taste her, 'til you can feel her in your blood..."

Helena shifted uncomfortably in her seat as memories of the last year and a half washed over her unbidden.

Myka - as angry and defiant during those early days as any ten recruits - struggling against Helena's grip as she got none-too-gently pulled away from yet another fight.

Myka - several weeks later - confident and laughing now, grinning even though she'd just been pinned to the practice mat by Helena, who'd bested her one-handed after a teasing dare.

Myka, scared and struggling, but still trusting, when Helena - at her wits' end after Myka's sudden and dangerous display of recalcitrance in the wake of a very questionable mission - had barged into Myka's room and pinned her against the tiny recruit's cot there and started yelling in lieu of simply shaking the life out of the other woman.

Something had flared up between them in that moment, seemingly out of nowhere - something that had no place at all in their world - and Helena had let Myka go as if scalded before making an unwonted retreat. They'd never spoken of it afterward, but the shadow still lingered.

It hadn't damaged the relationship, thankfully - Helena had spent long, painful hours building Myka's trust in her after her recruitment, and would have been beyond angry at herself if she'd damaged that in a moment of anger, however well-intended - but it had fundamentally changed things between the two women. They still bantered and talked, but there was a careful distance between the two of them after that that felt every bit as forced and unnatural as it was.

A slight change in volume drew Helena's attention back to the song. Myka was staring directly at her still, as if everything she sang was meant for her specifically. "You've got to give her some faith, hold her tight. A little tenderness - you've gotta treat her right. She will be there for you, taking good care of you..."

And that was the crux of the matter, really. She'd done all of those things for Myka, as she had for numerous recruits before and after, but it hadn't been the same at all - Myka had gotten under her skin somehow, despite every trick Helena had employed to maintain the appropriate distance between them.

It wasn't the first time a recruit had developed an unhealthy attachment to her during their training - it was heartbreaking how many of the recruits imprinted on the first person to treat them like a worthwhile human being - but it was the first time that Helena had returned the feeling. If she had any sense at all, she'd have long since done what Lorna constantly hinted at and had Myka assigned to another handler.

Myka's song came to an end, posing a question that just seemed to hang in the air even as the notes faded. "Just tell me, have you ever really, really, really, ever loved a woman?"

Helena smiled despite herself as she watched Myka accept her just praise from the audience with a grin and a happy, unfettered laugh that Helena rarely got to hear. The answer to the song's final question was so blazingly obvious in that moment that no amount of denial or self-deception could have altered it: she had, indeed - the last woman in the world she had any business at all having feelings for.

Bowing to the inevitable as Myka began the next song, Helena flagged down a server and placed an order. She could have Myka reassigned with a phone call, reclaiming the strict order she'd hidden behind since a car bomb had left her old life in ruins, but she already knew she wouldn't.

Even knowing it could only end badly for them both, she couldn't let go of the only thing in years to bring her any true happiness...


End file.
